Chronicle
by SunRises6
Summary: When Sakura first met The One, it was a scene taken straight out of a horror movie. AU


**Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, some characters would have lived and some would have died.**

**(Unbeta-ed)**

* * *

When she was eight and he was ten, they met for the first time.

Little Sakura had been chased to a foreign garden by her bullies – all because of her, in their words, freaky cotton candy hair and also in their words, abnormally large forehead.

They were teasing her and pulling her hair and poking violently at her forehead when a voice startled them all.

"Ganging up on a girl is pathetic."

Ready to yell at the interferer, her bullies turned back…

…and were greeted with a scene taken straight out of a horror movie.

There standing, under the dim moonlight, was a red-haired, slightly older boy dressed in dark clothes. His outfit served nothing but to highlight his pale, very pale to the point of almost translucent (probably because their chicken hearts were playing tricks on their eyes) complexion. Trembling, they slowly moved their eyes up to his face.

They swore that their hearts had stopped playing tricks altogether.

The right side of his face – started from the corner of his glinting (apparently, their heart desperately had to have the last trick) brownish-yellow eyes and ended dripping at his chin – was coated with crimson liquid.

The liquid was dripping down, down, down, creating small pitter-patter sounds on something he cradled on his right arm.

That something was a small body, wrapped in a white cloth, stained scarlet here and there. They couldn't see its face due to its hair covered most of it but they were able to make out trails of crimson liquid, which they were now sure was blood, on disclosed parts.

When they moved their eyes to his left arm, to their already intensified horror, he was holding a small, also-dripping-blood knife.

As if on cue, flashes of lightning screeched loudly across the sky (for dramatic effect).

The bullies screamed at the top of their lungs and ran as fast as humanly possible, leaving Sakura behind.

The boy looked for a moment after her bullies and murmured something along the lines of _'cowards' _then turned to her stunned form. Using the hand that was holding the knife, he pointed to a direction.

"The exit is over there."

With that, he left.

Haruno Sakura was rendered speechless. She couldn't quite get what just happened but there were three things she was sure of:

1. He had stood up for her. (Years later, she realized that he had no intention of helping her whatsoever; he just simply pointed out what he thought of the situation. But at that time, he was a knight in her eyes.)

2. He had kindly shown her the way out despite her trespass. (Years later, she crossed out the "kindly" part in her reminiscence.)

3. He was The One for her until hell froze over. (Years later, fortunately, in his opinion, she still didn't change her mind.)

XXX

Sakura found out the name and profile of her knight after four days of information gathering.

His name was Akasuna Sasori. _A deadly name suited for a deadly knight, _she declared in her mind.

He lived with his grandmother, Chiyo, and granduncle, Ebizo, just three blocks away from her house, which she gleefully noted. His family was famous for making toys and he specialized in dolls, which explained the small body he held that night. He attended the same school as her and apparently, a top student.

Now that she had all the information she needed, she went straight to his house with a love letter clutched in her tiny hands. After several rings, his grandmother was the one that opened the door. Shyly, she held the letter towards the elder woman and asked if she could give it to Sasori-san.

Chiyo gave the little girl a gentle and somewhat amused look then proceeded to ruffle her pink hair with a, "Sure, I'll give him your letter."

She waited anxiously for his reply in two days.

On the third day, she jumped up and down in happiness – which earned her questioning looks from her parents – when she received a letter from him.

The content, however, froze her on the spot.

He returned her letter.

Well, not entirely. He had corrected every single one of her mistakes – which was a lot, by the way – with red marks and he even gave her a score – 45 out of 100 – with a neatly-written comment, '_I went easy on you.'_

She sulked in her room for exactly 1 hour, 23 minutes, 45 seconds.

Then, she stood up straight and proudly said to herself that, '_A girl's true love can't die because of such itty-bitty incident.'_

Thus, Sakura's chase for her one true love officially began.

* * *

When he was eleven and she was nine, Sasori had finally come to terms, albeit grudgingly, with the fact that the pink sprite wouldn't be leaving him anytime soon.

In all honesty, he didn't think she could continue her childish crush after the incident with her first love letter. Yes, the brat (because he was two years older than her so it's very well within his rights to call her brat) did send many more after that. And each time, she never forgot a PS with, '_Did I get better this time?' _which he secretly agreed that she did get better and it'd been a while since he had to correct her letters.

Many might think he was being mean on purpose to the little girl with what he did to her letters but honestly, he wasn't. He was the type to bluntly say what he thought on the matter, no sugar-coated whatsoever. This was the reason why he's considered good-looking by many girls but they all hated him with a burning passion. After several '_You look fat in that dress' _and _'Your high-pitched voice is hurting my ears' _and _'You should think of a way to solve the homework first before bothering me'_, he was officially "the mean freak" (funny that those girls had thought his hobby of making dolls was adorable).

He had expected Haruno Sakura to be the same, crying and whining about how mean he was to her parents then words would get to his grandmother and he would get scolded, not that he minded. He was mildly surprised when none of that happened. And pretty pissed off when he found out that somehow, the brat had convinced her parents to let him help her with her study since he was such a good student and she wasn't doing so well at school. To his annoyance, Chiyo-baa-san happily agreed with this since she was kinda fond of that brat and in her words, he needed friends other than his dolls. That's why even though he locked his room every freaking time that brat came, she still got access to it.

And ever since, the brat spent most of her free time hanging around Sasori – dubbed as stalking by him.

She followed him everywhere. And she always, always tried to start a conversation with him. If she was lucky, the conversation remained one-sided with his occasional "hm", "ok", "alright" or his very rare "I see". Most of the times, he just walked away or shooed her. His apathetic demeanor, however, never seemed to faze her enough to give up on her true love – as she once told him.

The brat was very patient, he could give her that. He still debated whether that was the patience of a saint or an idiot. He leaned more towards the latter, though.

XXX

By this time, Sakura realized that her knight was no knight.

After all, what kind of knight would look at your bullied form with complete boredom and coolly said, "You look pathetic."

That stung.

She had come to his house in hope of getting some comfort but now she knew her knight wasn't the kind to do so. So she ran back to her house and sobbed for hours. After she was done, she looked at the mirror and sobbed for more because she realized that he was, indeed, right.

She then avoided him for two whole weeks, which still held the record until now.

On one day after school, she was cornered by her bullies again. Nowadays, she rarely got bullied. They were scared of Sasori (they said he was making voodoo dolls or something like that) and she always followed him, which didn't allow them chances to be mean to her. But she hadn't been with Sasori for two weeks and they thought that finally, "the freak couple" – they called them – had broken up.

They were teasing her and pulling her hair and poking violently at her forehead – which strangely made her all nostalgia – when she heard one of them said, "Your stupid, girly boyfriend,"

That's when Sakura found out that she could throw a punch pretty well.

She lost the fight, of course. But somehow she felt like she had won the war.

When she finally had the strength to stand up and walked out of the school gate, she was utterly surprised to find Sasori there. He was leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, looking as bored as ever. He regarded her with a cool look and walked away. She blinked a few times then immediately followed him.

On their way back home, he said nothing to her nor held her hand. And honestly, she didn't expect any of those.

That night, her bullies came to her house. To her surprise, they all apologized for their bullying. Before they left, they didn't forget to tell her, "Please don't ask him to curse us."

That day, Sakura decided, he was still a knight. He was just wearing a bloody armor.

* * *

When she was ten and he was twelve, Sakura met her love rival.

Well, in her mind, at least.

The love rival in question was sexually ambiguous because Sakura refused to believe that _a boy_ had better, prettier hair than her.

He was Iwa Deidara, son of a potter.

Apparently, he was in the same class as Sasori in middle school and since the beginning of school year, had stuck with him like glue.

This. Annoyed. Her. A. Lot.

Before, there were only Sasori and her in his workshop. He would carve something and she would do her homework or read some books. Then she would be fully content with watching the serious look on his face while he was working. Sakura loved it the most when Sasori was working; the devotion, the concentration and the way his hands moved expertly…she loved it all.

Now, _now, _she had to share those private, precious moments with a loud-mouthed, idiotic blonde.

Deidara would always come to Sasori's house after school and stay there for hours like they were the best of friends. _Which they are absolutely not, _she mentally added. That blonde also loved to spout nonsense about art, about how he was a better artist than Sasori. _Hah, as if, _she loyally thought.

And did she mention that she also hated the way his shiny hair flowed in the wind? _Blah, totally unmanly_.

Anyways, Sakura could go on and on and on and on about how stalker-ish and annoying Deidara was while blissfully ignored the fact that she had been like that, once.

Then one day, her one-sided hostility directed at Deidara – he was always funny and somewhat polite towards her despite his coarse personality, not that she would admit it out loud – ended because of one simple word.

After her many subtle and not-so-subtle acts, the ever oblivious blonde finally got that there was something wrong with the pink-haired little girl's attitude towards him and went to Sasori to talk about it.

"Did I do something wrong? Your little girlfriend seems to hate me."

Sakura's ears perked up (no, _no, _she wasn't eavesdropping) at the word "girlfriend". She instantly beamed and from that moment, Deidara and she became the best of friends.

XXX

Nowadays, Sasori often wondered if he had done something wrong in his past life – killing a puppy or such – so that the gods above could punish him.

As if one stalker wasn't enough, they gave him two.

And the second one was even worse than the first.

At least the pink sprite had the decency to stay quiet when necessary. While it's pretty far-fetched to say he enjoyed her presence, he didn't mind those afternoons they shared in comfortable silence at his workshop.

That blonde and his loud mouth had to ruin their peace. His mouth (sometimes, he pondered that for him to talk non-stop, he must have more than one mouth so that he could change between them when one was tired) wasn't the only thing that irked him, though. Sasori disliked Brat No.2's art (because he was more emotionally mature than the moron so it's very well within his rights to call him brat). With a passion. And frankly, the teenage doll maker just wanted to stuff something, preferably his sharp knives, into his big mouth when he declared he was the superior one. _Hah, as if, _Sasori in his childish moment snorted.

But recently, there was something else that bothered him about the new brat.

It's no secret to everyone – exclude Brat No.2 – that Brat No.1 disliked him. The reason was pretty obvious too. However, on one fine day, she decided that the blonde was her friend, best friend even.

She talked to him more often and seemed to genuinely enjoy their conversation. He knew her. She wasn't one to fake her feeling for politesse's sake. If she liked someone, she'd go all her way to make friends with them. Well, he was the living example after all.

There were times when he spotted them giggle over God-knows-what, disrupting his much needed silence. Before he could send their way his infamous glare, Brat No.1 – knew him well as always – noticed his displeasure and giddily pulled Brat No.2 out of his workshop to God-knows-where, leaving him all alone.

He told himself he wasn't lonely.

* * *

When he was thirteen and she was eleven, to Sasori, Brat No.1 became Sakura.

Sasori had this secret that he didn't tell anyone, not even to his family. He had trouble sleeping ever since the accident that killed his parents and left him the only survivor happened. That's why he always worked late at his workshop because when he was tired, sleep came easier.

He never told his family about this because, contrary to popular belief, the apathetic boy cared enough for his grandmother and granduncle to spare them all the worry. And more importantly, he didn't want to be seen as some weakling. He would be damned if people looked at him with pity.

Then, on Valentine's Day, Brat No.1 came to his house and gave Brat No.2 chocolate. Looking so proud and satisfied with herself, she then presented him a big, beautifully-wrapped box. He didn't open it right away, just continued with his work.

In the background, he could make out of the two brats' conversation. They were talking about future careers, so it seemed.

"I want to become a doctor," he heard her said softly.

At that moment, he didn't think much of her answer. He assumed she just wanted to follow her doctor mother's path, just like Brat No.2 followed his father's and Sasori his grandmother's.

Later that night, when he was about to go to bed, he suddenly remembered her gift and decided to open it. Every year, she would give him something different because as she claimed, _'I'm an artist's girlfriend, I have to be creative.' _He always gave her a look that clearly said, "Since when you are my girlfriend?"

His eyes widened a fraction when he saw what was inside.

The brat had given him valerian tea. Lots of them. With this amount, it must have cost her pocket-money a big deal. He knew that, even as a young girl, she never spent money on ribbons, rings or girly things like that. In fact, he never saw her spend money on anything aside from gifts for her and his family (_and now Brat No.2, _he added with irritation). Even with that, he doubted she could afford all of this. No wonder she had convinced Chiyo-baa-san to let her work part-time here over one year ago.

_Wait, did she plan this since one year ago?_

If that's true, he couldn't help but wonder, how long had she noticed his problem? And how did she find out? Was it during those nights when she slept overnight here? Did he say something in his sleep? And why she never told him or, knowing her personality, told his grandmother?

It seemed that his little brat always found a way to surprise him with her perceptiveness.

He opened the note attached with her gift. In all its childish glory, her neatly-written words warmed him to his very toes.

_Dear Sasori-san,_

_I'll become a great doctor and cure you of your sickness. In the means time, please drink the valerian tea and sleep early. Stop abusing your health:( ._

_Love always,_

_Sakura_

XXX

Sakura wasn't sure if she was imagining things but she swore that Sasori seemed to…soften – for the lack of better word – even just a tiny bit.

Deidara had waved her off when she told him this. He said that Sasori was as emotionally constipated as ever, which earned him a smack on the head from Sakura.

Sakura knew she was right when Sasori asked her what she liked for White Day.

To say she was shocked was an understatement.

Sasori never bothered to give her anything. Sakura knew that he considered letting her annoy him on a daily basis was a gift itself. She was suspicious that Chiyo-baa-chan had pressured him into this. But knowing Sasori, if he didn't want to do something, even God himself couldn't force him to.

She didn't know what to say, for a very long moment at that, judging how Sasori was raising his brow impatiently at her. _Oops, he hates waiting._

"Please…please draw me a heart," she stuttered.

He gave her a long, weird look but nodded nonetheless.

In truth, she didn't know what to ask for and just blurted out that request. When she finally overcame her shock, she really wanted to bang her head against something for saying such ridiculous thing. Then, being a child and all, she giggled and thought she could write "Sasori and Sakura" on it and framed the picture. She actually wanted to do it before but gave up when she realized her drawing skill was near zero. She once drew Sasori a scorpion for his birthday to which he commented, surprisingly with no sarcasm, "Nice worm."

Sakura was very excited when she opened the large envelope from him only to feel eight all over again.

He drew for her an anatomically correct heart, with all its cardiac muscle and connective tissue glory (or was it gory?). Sakura swore she could see it _beat._ She had to check once, twice, thrice to make sure he didn't take it straight from a text-book.

But this time, she didn't sulk in her room for 1 hour, 23 minutes, 45 seconds. Instead, she laughed out loud because _this was so Sasori. _

And as she framed and hanged it on her bedroom wall – with no "Sasori and Sakura" since it would ruin his picture – she amusedly told herself that he was a realist after all.

* * *

When she was twelve and he was fourteen, Sakura realized that she was probably one of a few people whose opinions mattered to Sasori.

She went to the same middle school as Sasori and Deidara. There, she noticed, wasn't that different from primary school. He was still separated from boys and girls because of his hobby and the tongue that was blunt to the point it hurt.

Being the person he was, Sasori couldn't care less what others talked about him. And being friends with him for four years had made Sakura into a similar person.

However, it didn't mean she couldn't get pissed and wanted to punch them until kingdom came when they bad-mouthed him behind his back. Sasori wasn't a saint whatsoever (far from it, actually) but he always spoke his mind straight to their faces. That alone made him nth times better a person than them, in her opinion.

When she got positively murderous like that, Deidara always laughed and Sasori would sigh. Then, he would knock lightly on her forehead and asked her, "Do you think like them too?"

She would sputter, "What? No way!"

And Sasori would shrug nonchalantly, "Then I'm all good."

She gaped for the longest time, which Deidara later told her that it made her look like a dying fish.

Sakura felt like she could smile till kingdom came.

XXX

Sasori didn't care what others talked about him.

Sakura didn't care what others talked about her.

But, to Sasori's own astonishment, he did care what others talked about Sakura.

He knew that she never felt ashamed of being with him and that blonde maniac. She loved them (he would feel more pleased if Brat No.2 was out of the equation, though).

However, he couldn't help but narrow his eyes whenever someone spoke ill of her. Especially if it was because of him.

He was well-aware that he didn't have many fans at school. He wouldn't be so surprised if someday there was a poll asked for the most hated student in school and he was leading. The red-haired boy was okay with people hating him but he _was not _okay with people hating Sakura just because she was friends with him.

_When has he started to care too much like this?_

Sakura had been with him for four long years but he never gave much thought about the fact that she didn't have any friends besides him (and another freak). And he knew because others disliked him so they extended their distaste to her, his friend.

To be perfectly honest, he thought that she brought it upon herself. Sasori never asked for her friendship to begin with. She was the one that insisted on sticking with him so she should be prepared for what to come.

Even with that said, he was unable to stop the feeling of, surprisingly, guilt and fear inside him.

_Has Sakura ever felt lonely? Does she want to have new friends? Does she still want to be with him? Has she ever thought of…leaving his side?_

Four years ago, he would have laughed at all of these; because her leaving him would be a dream come true.

Nowadays, he didn't even want to let such thing cross his mind.

* * *

When he was fifteen and she was thirteen, Sasori found something even more beautiful than his dolls.

By the time they went to high school, Sasori realized that he had underestimated Brat No.2's stupidity all along.

It seemed that the blonde's hormone was on a rampage. In his 15th year of life, that moron chased after everything with breasts, big ones for that matter. And the red-haired boy lost count of how many times he walked in on the idiot with some girl in an empty classroom.

When he voiced his opinion, the brat actually pouted and whined (_looks like his look isn't the only thing that resembles a girl, _he noted) that, he quoted, _'You aren't one to point fingers_. _You lust after Sakura-chan too!'_

Sasori could barely resist the urge to roll his eyes.

But, he suspected, the brat's words rang some truth in them.

Sasori didn't know when but lately, he seemed to look at Sakura too often for his liking.

And by observing her, he realized that she had blossomed without his notice.

Subtle curves that made his eyes linger a tad too long. Smooth skin that made him yearn for a touch. Silky hair that made him want to test its softness. Red lips that made him itch to taste. Vibrant apple green eyes that made him get lost whenever he looked at them.

And a _brilliant, bright, heartwarming_ smile (bonus point when it's directed at him) that took his breath away.

Sasori wondered if he was too much of a pedophile.

XXX

This was the time when Sakura felt very conscious of herself, or to be more specific, her appearance.

She's well-aware of the fact that she didn't have nice…assets like girls her age, or there was anything special about her face. Well, aside from her large forehead, that is. She always considered herself a scrawny girl with colors that hurt your eyes.

That's why it unnerved her so much whenever Sasori looked at her.

Maybe it's just her but was he staring at her again? He seemed to do that a lot lately. She couldn't help but wonder if he was inwardly comparing her to his female schoolmates. She had been to his school once or twice and the girls there were really, really pretty; from their nicely-done hairstyles to their manicured nails. Just like those beautiful dolls that Sasori made.

This was one of those rare moments when she was relieved that Sasori was an anti-social person. She knew it's horrible of her to think like that but she really wouldn't know what to do if one day, one of those pretty girls approached him and he was charmed by her.

With that fear in mind, Sakura decided that she needed some changes. She started to learn how to apply make-up like those high school girls in hope of being pretty. _In hope of making Sasori think she was pretty_.

Then, on one of her outings with Sasori and Deidara, she turned up, nervously, with a new appearance.

Which earned her a gasp from Deidara and a frown from Sasori.

Sasori didn't say anything. He just walked away.

That threw her heart to the pit of hell.

Right when Deidara was trying to comfort her, he came back, with his wet handkerchief in hand. Then, Sasori proceeded to wipe every bit of make-up from her face.

"You look too much like a doll," he said with great displeasure undertone.

Sakura thought she didn't need any blusher; her cheeks now probably put her hair to shame.

* * *

When she was fourteen and he was sixteen, Sakura realized that she _meant_ something to Sasori.

On a rainy day, Sakura's beloveds were met with the biggest scare ever. A motorcycle slipped and collided with her on her way home.

She didn't wake up for a while.

When she did, the first things she saw were her mother's crying face and her father's worried one.

She never saw the figure that left the moment she opened her eyes.

The next day and many days after that, she didn't know what to make of a quiet Sasori, reading book next to her sickbed.

_Well, this is new, _she thought. Sasori was practically doing nothing and she knew that he considered doing nothing a waste of time, especially when he could use such precious times at his workshop. She thought maybe her parents asked him to keep her company since they were busy individuals and Sasori respected (more like tolerated) them enough to do them a favor.

One day, Sakura told him, "Uhm, you know, Sasori-san, you don't really need to come here every day."

He merely raised a brow. "You don't want me here?"

Sakura fidgeted, troubled to find words. "Well, it's not that…but I know it's pretty boring and-"

"Why boring?"

_Because I know you prefer to work at your workshop. Because I know you don't like wasting time doing nothing. Because I know this just isn't your thing. _

She couldn't get a single word out, though. It hurt too much to say out loud.

"Why boring," Sasori's repeated question, no, more like a statement snapped her out of her muse.

He looked up at her eyes and murmured words that later broke her into happy tears, "Aren't you here?"

XXX

What did people call this feeling?

Ah, numb. And empty.

That's what Sasori felt when he first received news about Sakura's accident.

And many days after when he was alone at his workshop.

He couldn't get why he was feeling this way. He carved. He ate. He slept. His routine wasn't disrupted in the least. Then why did it seem like something was missing? Worse still, why did he feel…lacked because of it?

Deep down, he knew the answer. He didn't want to admit it, though. He didn't want to admit that a silly little girl with an equally silly crush had become a constant in his life; become something he looked forward to every afternoon, something bright and beautiful in his rather mundane life.

And more importantly, he couldn't stand to see her slip right in front of his eyes. Just like his parents once did.

So, he refused to visit her.

"It's pointless anyways," he told Brat No.2.

He didn't see the punch coming.

Scratch that, he actually saw it coming because that's who the brat was. What surprised him was that the blonde used his hand, one of those hands that he always gushed about as "an artist's life" and never brought harm to them.

And damn it hurt.

But Sasori thought that's when Brat No.2 became Deidara.

After the punch (which he gratefully returned by the way), he came to see her.

Small and fragile and lifeless, he held her hand like he was holding her life. It was silly and pointless and everything Sasori wasn't but he couldn't, _wouldn't_, let go.

And the moment those green eyes he now admitted that he loved fluttered open, a wave of relief and happiness flooded over him.

He didn't stay long, though. Sasori was still Sasori and he would be damned if someone saw him cry, something he himself didn't know he was capable of.

He felt whole.

* * *

When he was seventeen and she was fifteen, their story's prologue was concluded.

It was New Year Eve. Sasori, Sakura and Deidara decided to visit a shrine together. Friends they might be but the urge to remove Deidara from the equation was still strong in Sasori; especially when nowadays, he followed them everywhere.

This. Annoyed. Him. A. Lot.

The blonde had mischievously told him that, _'I don't want to miss a prick's love confession.' _His reason served nothing but to irritate Sasori even more.

After a while, though, Deidara left them to their own for some _'pretty girls in pretty kimono', _but not before sending Sasori's way a wink.

He received a dirty look in return, which only caused him to laugh out loud before he ran off.

Side by side, Sasori and Sakura walked among the stream of people. As usual, she was the main talker with his occasional "hm", "ok", "alright" or his very rare "I see". He preferred to listen to the gentle cadence of her voice anyways.

Glancing at Sakura, he could feel the relief and happiness all over again. There was time when he almost lost her (it still scared him sometimes when he remembered). But here she was, alive and vibrant more than ever, and by his side.

He thought that he didn't thank the gods above enough.

On their way, they saw some squealing girls with their boyfriends, swinging something in their hands and talking about being together forever. Seeing his confused face, Sakura smiled at him.

"I heard that this shrine has a monk whose charms can make couples stay together forever."

Well, that was pretty stupid in his opinion. But Sakura was looking dreamily at them and because she always, always made him happy, it's time for him to return the courtesy (and ok, maybe he did want to have one of those charms, even just for a tiny bit).

Threading his fingers gently into her hair, he leaned closer and closer until their foreheads touched. Sasori whispered against her cheek, "Shall we go, then?"

Looking at her face turn bright red, memories of those seven years played like a movie in his mind; from the time they first met when she was just a brat that stubbornly wormed her way into his life to when she became a beautiful young girl that succeeded at it and even more. Sakura had always put up with his less-than-pleasant personality and remained by his side. _She has the patience of an idiotic saint_, he finally decided. But idiotic she might be, which he knew she was anything but, there was no one and nothing he would trade her for.

When Sakura finally overcame her shock and – he could see her eyes glimmer with unspoken happiness – nodded clumsily, Sasori smiled. Not a smirk like he often did but really, truly smiled.

_This is our beginning._

* * *

Well, that was longer than anything I've ever written. Basically, this is my attempt at fluff and humor, using my favorite Naruto pairing as guinea pig. Hope I didn't butcher their characters too much, especially Sasori:p.

Read and review pretty please:3


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